


Drive

by Siren_Of_Old



Series: Halsey Series of Sin [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: #fakefanrighthere, BUT ONLY ONCE, I AM SORRY, M/M, Otabek you slick son of a b, Poor Yuri, Realization of Feelings, Yuri's grandfather is my ultimate fav to write dudes, had to fuckig google when Yuri's birthday was, he gets so sad, how do i fix this tbh, motorcycles!, my baby boy's birthday, the f slur is used in here, tiny smol salt child, you have no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 10:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9379898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siren_Of_Old/pseuds/Siren_Of_Old
Summary: All we do is drive





	

**Author's Note:**

> S h i t 
> 
> The 'f' slur is used in here once, please be wary of that. I apologize greatly for hurting my son.

The day of Yuri Plisetsky’s eighteenth birthday, he woke up to several birthday wishes on his social media and the smell of his grandfather’s pancakes.

Still dressed in his pajamas, he shuffled his way down to the kitchen, where his grandfather ruffled his hair and wished him a happy birthday.

“You’re a man now, eh, Yuratchka?” The elder Plisetsky smiled as he set a plate full of pancakes down in front of his grandson. He sat down across from him at their small table, his own plate full of pancakes. Yuri nodded absently as he doused his pancakes in syrup, stomach growling. “Anything planned for today?”

Yuri shook his head as he shoved a bite of food in his mouth, “No, Grandfather.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Yuratchka.”

He was shooed from the kitchen as soon as he was done eating, his grandfather smiling after him softly. Yuri didn’t notice as the older man took out his cell phone, pulling up a month-old conversation. He just made his way to his room to get dressed for the day, gazing down at his phone as he answered back all of his significant acquaintances, giving them his thanks.

Tossing his phone onto his bed, he yanked his sleep shirt over his head and threw it into his dirty clothes basket. Crossing his room to his dresser, he searched for a good shirt to wear. His grandfather liked to take a lot of pictures of the two of them on his birthday, always printing them to put in the photo album. He threw on a black tee shirt with a small, cartoon tiger peeking out of his breast pocket, then searched for his favorite pair of skinny jeans.

On his bed, his phone chirped with a new message and he glanced over at it as he swapped his pajama sweats out for the pair of jeans. Zipping his fly closed, he plopped down on his bed and scooped his phone up into his hand.

From: Beka (11:30 am)

_Happy birthday, Yura._

Yuri smiled down at his phone as he typed out his response, face a little warm. He brushed it off as a side effect of Grandfather cranking the heating again.

To: Beka (11:31 am)

_Thanks, Beka._

_Did ya get me anything? Lol_

He laughed for a second, before Otabek’s answer popped up, making him gape down at the phone in his hands. He blinked at the screen for a few moments, eyes wide.

From: Beka (11:31 am)

_Go check your porch._

The blond man was up and running in an instance, trampling down the stairs to wrench his front door open, a wide smile on his face. Leave it to Otabek to figure out just what day to send out his gift to have it arrive-

“Happy birthday, Yura.”

Yuri’s mouth fell open as he realized that Otabek was standing in front of him, his helmet atop his head, leather jacket on. He felt himself scrambling for words. “Wha- Beka, wh- But, how?”

Yuri’s grandfather came around the corner, a large smile on his face. “Oh, good. I see you didn’t get lost.”

The younger Plisetsky whirled on the elder, his jade eyes narrowed. “Did you _plan_ this, Grandfather?”

A smirk slid onto his grandfather’s face and the older man laughed jovially. “One never gives away a surprise, Yuratchka.”

Yuri looked back at Otabek, who smiled as he held out another helmet, this one spotted with leopard print and complete with cat ears.

“They didn’t have any tiger print,” Otabek told him as he took the helmet from him. “I hope this is okay.”

Yuri stared down at the helmet in his hands, eyes wide. “Is this mine?”

Otabek nodded, before he jerked a thumb behind him, gesturing. Yuri looked around him to find his motorcycle in their driveway, right behind his grandfather’s car. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

 

* * *

 

 

Riding with Otabek was always a fun experience for Yuri.

It almost beat skating, if Yuri was honest.

He felt Otabek lean into a turn and followed unconsciously, rolling his head against Otabek’s back. He mused over how warm the other was, and how much he liked being this close to him. Normally, it would bother him if he were this close to someone. But, for some reason, being close to Otabek never truly bothered him.

Yuri could feel the steady beat of his heartbeat as they reached open road, Otabek revving the engine as their speed climbed. Yuri’s grip around his waist tightened a bit, but he wasn’t scared of the acceleration. It was rather exciting to him, like he and Otabek were the only people in the world, racing away from responsibility and the harshness of reality.

Yuri always liked riding with Otabek. The slight sway to the way he drove, the way he would take a hand every so often and pat Yuri’s leg to make sure he was still okay.  

He liked feeling light as the wind whipped past them coolly, the only true warmth coming from Otabek’s back. He felt free when Otabek took him out on his motorcycle, his forehead steady against Otabek’s back, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. He could feel his hair whipping around his face from where it escaped the helmet, but he just brushed at it and pressed his face harder into Otabek’s back.

“You okay, Yura?” Otabek hollered over the roar of the bike’s engine, his hand coming down on Yuri’s leg, the heat of his palm nice through Yuri’s cooled jeans.

“Yes!” Yuri shouted back, poking his nose into Otabek’s shoulder. The older man seemed to accept it, rubbing his hand up and down Yuri’s thigh once before returning it to its handlebar. Yuri felt like his leg was on fire, and it wasn’t just the exhaust pipe. He felt Otabek laughing against him and he felt his chest warm up, bliss flooding him.

It’d been weird for Yuri lately, calling Otabek on Skype and texting him after practices. He always felt slightly nauseous before they called, butterflies battering at his stomach, only to dissolve once the man’s stoic face appeared on his laptop screen. His chest would tighten horribly every time Otabek texted him first, before a fine warmth spread throughout him, loosening the tightness and leaving him a bit breathless.

At first, he’d thought it was some sort of aversion towards the man; a sort of awkwardness because of how unused he was to having friends. But, it couldn’t be that, because he didn’t feel the horrible tightness in his chest right then, clinging to Otabek’s back as the bike rumbled underneath them. His chest felt warm, but he was mostly sure that it was because of how it was pressed against Otabek. Sure, there were butterflies in his stomach, but he was positive that it was just the way they were slowly accelerating as they sped down the highway.

“Fags!”

The screech came from a car speeding past them, the window slightly down. Yuri gaped at the face that sneered at him and felt his chest tighten, even more horribly than when Otabek texted. Otabek’s hand pressed against Yuri’s thigh when he felt him shake against him, his body trembling a bit as he maneuvered the bike over a few potholes, his fingers tight around Yuri’s thigh. The car sped away as Otabek pulled the bike over onto the shoulder of the road, kicking the kickstand down with a stomp.

“Yura, are you okay?” He heard him ask as the warmth left the front of his body. He nodded carefully, his mind a bit fuzzy. Otabek’s hand came up to curl around his cheek, his thumb warm as it brushed over his cheekbone. He felt the urge to lean his face into the touch and froze.

_Did it look like he liked Otabek to an outsider?_

His head spun a bit and he shook it, brow furrowing as he tried to sort through his thoughts. He didn’t understand. He wasn’t a homosexual, and not for Otabek. Otabek was his _best friend_.

He could hear Victor carrying on in his head, the memory from ages ago at Katsudon’s home. He was telling him that he texted Otabek so much, that his son wasn’t allowed to get married yet, that he only smiled like that when Otabek called him.

Then Mila’s voice joined, from about a month ago, her laughter clear as a bell. She giggling as he tried to find the right lighting to send Otabek a selfie at the rink, his hair braided and up.

“ _Gotta look good for the Ota-bae?_ ”

Then his grandfather. A week ago, he’d asked Yuri if he was seeing someone special, he kept texting at the lunch table. Yuri had replied no, that he was just texting Otabek. He could still see how his grandfather’s face had widened into a large smile, his eyes twinkling as he told Yuri that he better let “that young man know that he needs to ask for my blessing first”. He was so unsure of it at that moment, but now-

“Yura?” Otabek’s voice made Yuri look up, his vision blurry. He blinked, noticing when warm liquid dripped down his cheeks, spilling off his jaw. Otabek’s expression changed to one of panic as he tried to wipe away Yuri’s tears with his fingers. “Yuratchka, what’s wrong?”

Yuri was in love with Otabek, and all because of a dumb drive down a highway.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos as you please!  
> Please be gentle with me


End file.
